


I thought you were the painter, who said it was a good idea to let me do this.

by OrangeSprout



Category: Mewgulf
Genre: ArtistMew, Fluff, Gulf wear hoodies, Inspired by a twitter post, M/M, Mew runs into a few times, No Condom, Picture taking, SoftboyGulf, bottommew, fuck yeah, i think that's all i need to tag, i'm not sure i understand the logistics of sex but it tried, oh and they do it raw, oh shit I almsot forgot, oh yeah and there's sex, so it's GulfMew, so like watch out for that, spills his coffee too, there's some paint involved, topgulf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeSprout/pseuds/OrangeSprout
Summary: Mew is an artist and runs into Gulf and then they have sex.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 5
Kudos: 94





	I thought you were the painter, who said it was a good idea to let me do this.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why this is so long. It was supposed to be a quick one-shot. But I've been really feeling the GulfMew, TopGulf vibe and then I saw this twitter post
> 
> https://twitter.com/mewgulfeight/status/1295715581895745536?s=21
> 
> It was inspiring.
> 
> So like here some TopGulf.
> 
> (Just so we're clear this is TopGulf)

Mew stomps through the door, kicking his shoes off but taking the time to set them neatly to the side, the drops his bag with a thump by the couch, drops his brushes in the cup in their living room table, pulls off his shirt to fling it by the cup before pouting.

Gulf doesn’t look up from his phone but his arms open. Mew knows it’s an invitation and he takes it immediately, crawling over the couch and Gulf. There’s a few seconds for wiggling into a comfy position, Mew legs bracketing Gulf as they stretch along the couch before he settles his head his head on Gulf chest and his hands around his waist. When he stops his wiggling, Gulf pats Mew head absently before going back to his game. Mew lets out a long low exhale feeling more relaxed almost instantly.

“How was class?” Gulf asks and Mew can feel the words. He loves this. Gulf wasn’t the snuggling type but he never denied Mew the snuggles he wanted (or needs). Now after a year of dating, he even sorts of initiated it sometimes. And that counts as progress when Mew remembers the first few months of dating that Gulf couldn’t figure out he wanted cuddles unless he started them. It was cute, gulfs snuggle learning curve.

Mew can remember at the beginning of their relationship how rough Gulf was like his hands weren’t made for delicate light touches or gently tangle through hair. They were quick and stern like he didn’t have full control over them. It was adorable and a bit painful. But honestly, Mew likes the rough manhandling most days. He likes being thrown against the couch, the bed, or the wall and as Gulf fingers dig into his skin, nips at his shoulders. The pleasure and pain tipping together. He likes it. But he also likes this. Gulf absently leans down and kisses the crown of his head.

Mew lets out a tiny huff of annoyance, “It was fine, someone ran into me and spilled coffee all over my shirt after class though.”

Gulf chuckles, “karma.”

Mew punches his side with a grumble, “It’s not the same.”

“That’s how we meet though, you spilling coffee on me.”

———

_Mew had forgotten his favorite brush at home today and normally it would be fine but he really needs it’s luck to finish up his painting but he needs coffee just a little bit more to make it through the day so he settled for his second favorite brush tucked behind his ear. The line at the coffee shop hadn’t helped his mood any because now he was hustling down the courtyard, constantly glancing at his watch because he was not a tardy person. He was punctual and he wasn’t going to let a coffee line make him late._

_He glances down at his watch, he was making good time. Then he looked lower at his shirt, was that a stain? On his favorite pink polo too. Apparently, that tiny paint stain hadn’t come off in the wash like he assumed it would._

_He glares down at it as he continues on his journey, it’s not extremely noticeable but it annoys him. This is the only shirt that matches his dark pink beret. He loves that beret too. He jerks his head up when feet come into view but it’s too late he rubs straight into a chest._

_Mew scrambles to keep the brushes in his hand, coffee falls to its doom - all over the innocent bystander's chest, he ran into. He even sees a few brown spots on his own shirt. It makes him less mad about the paint stain though._

_“Oh shit, sorry.” He grabs the empty cup with his fingers in the same hand with his brushes as he digs through his bag for a -sort of- clean handkerchief. “Sorry I wasn’t watching were I was going. Sorry.”_

_He can feel the apology continue to spill from his lips as he dabs at the damp shirt. Then a hand grabs his pulling it away from the shirt. It’s almost painful but a thumb rubs of the skin as an apology like the hand doesn’t understand how to be gentle._

_“Hey, shh. It’s ok.” The strangers smiling, it’s cute and small. Dark fluffy hair messily over his head half-covering his eyes. The soft pink sweater (that Mew likes a lot and wonders where it’s from) has a dark brown stain over the chest. He balks at it._

_“You seem in a hurry.” The stranger states and Mew nods glancing at his watch and notes he’s already a few minutes late._

_The stranger smiles before grabbing a pen sticking out of Mews side bag pocket. He pulls the cap off with his teeth and Mew watches in fascination as the stranger tilts the hand he’s holding and writes a number over his wrist. Capping the pen back before slipping it in the pocket again._

_The stranger leans in close, too close to be considered anything friendly, breath fanning over Mew's cheek “Let me know when you're free.” He leans back and Mew can feel a flush on his cheek, “to talk about this coffee.”_

_Mew nods absently, gulping has the stranger eyes sparkle at him. The guy winks then waved as he walks away and for a second Mew is stuck, staring at the cute boy who wrote on his arm and - fuck he’s late._

_He sneaks into class almost ten minutes late but it’s worth it for the number he thinks._

_Mew writes the number in a piece of paper and sticks it to his fridge. He thinks about calling the stranger, thinks about it a lot. Sometimes starring at the number for more time than he should before deciding not to call the number._

_There’s no real reason why he shouldn’t. Except he’s tied down trying to get his Ph.D. while getting ready for his first art exhibit. He’s got very little time to entertain hot guys and coffee._

_That’s a lie though he very much so wants to entertain hot guys with coffee but he’s rusty. After his last relationship ended with a big bang of a fight he’s been pretty low key about relationships and by that, he means he hasn’t had one. His art has been his lover for the last couple of years and that had been ok with him. But this guy was cute and hadn’t even been mad about the sweater. Mew felt bad about the sweater and it would only be right to get it dry cleaned or something for him._

_He should call the guy._

_He doesn’t but he thinks about it._

_Mew huffs as he looks up to the sky, coffee in one hand, brushes in the other. He’s got some time before class so he can admire the beauty of the sky. He’s wearing his pink polo again that he thankfully managed to get the paint and coffee stains out of so he’s got beret on as well. He looks good and It’s a good day he thinks._

_That is until he runs into something solid, crushing his cup. He jumps back and the liquid splashes on the ground. He looks down at his chest, clean then over at the... person. Damn, he ran into someone again. But thankfully the coffee managed to miss the person albeit two drops on the arm which the person wipes on their pants._

_“I’m so sorry I was -“_

_“I would believe you if it was the first time it happened.” Mew stares at the familiar face, hair just as fluffy and messy as before but now a baby blue hoodie on._

_“It’s you.”_

_“It’s me.” The guy snorts, smirking. “Should I be offend you didn’t call and tried to pour coffee on me again?”_

_“I didn’t mean. I mean I’m sorry. At least no one landed on you this time.”_

_“Does that mean I need to watch out because this is going to become a regular thing?”_

_The guy was teasing him. Flirting. Shit, how to flirt back? It’s been so long since Mew has._

_“I thought about calling.” Mew blurts out the non sequitur._

_“Yeah?” The stranger's head tilts to the side and it’s cute. Mew wants to pet him, run his fingers through the fluffy locks._

_“Yeah I- ... My name's Mew.” He shoves the cup in the hand with his brushes before holding the now empty hand out._

_“Gulf.” Gulf takes the hand and steps closer, “Can I replace the coffee for you?”_

_“Yeah sure.” Mew breaths out, he’d been thinking a lot about a coffee date with the stranger. That and calling him._

_Gulf steps closer, finger brushing over Mew jaw. “You free now?”_

_“yeah-… wait, no. I have class.” Mew takes a step back trying not to look at Gulf lips that had been very close to him. And trying not to think about how he wanted to kiss them. He pats down his shirt, taking a moment to collect himself._

_He’s feeling too flustered for such a simple conversation._

_“I have class.” He says again. “How about afterward?”_

_“Afterwards?” Gulf smirks, “How about dinner then?”_

_“Dinner?” Mew tightens his grip around the brushes in his hand. “Yeah, sure of course.”_

_“Call me.” Gulf motions a phone as he walks away. Mew stares for longer than he should. Again._

_He does call Gulf this time, it takes him two days but he does._

—-

“Then you didn’t call me.” Gulf says dramatically, eyes still focused on the game but his elbows were throwing dramatics to match the story “poured your coffee on me and didn’t apologize or call me. Rude.”

Mew punches his side again and Gulf hand comes down to rub his back as he sets down his phone. Seemingly done with his game now and his full attention was on Mew.

“I was nervous.”

“Thankfully you tried to spill coffee on me again.” Gulf teases, fingers playing along Mew's spine.

“I didn’t spill anything on you on our first date,” Mew says back weakly, it’s not a strong argument and they both know it. Gulf laughs.

“No, but we knocked over one of your cleaning cups of water when I took you home.”

“Ruined my nice jeans.” Mew grumbles and Gulf laughs. “But I didn’t spill it on you.”

“True True,” Mew tips his head up to accept the kiss from Gulf, “So did the person who spilled coffee on you give you their number?”

“What if he did? You jealous?” Mew pushes up in his elbows looking at Gulf face. He steals a kiss as he pushes up to sit in Gulf lap, staring down at him with a teasing smile.

“Was he cute?” Gulf hands settle over Mew's hips, thumbs rubbing over Mew hip bones.

“Super cute,” Mew says cheekily, hand sneaks up Gulf shirt, trailing up his chest to flick his nipples. “You know I have a soft spot for cute boys.” He flicks the nipple again at Gulf wrinkled nose.

“Guess we should invite him over.” Gulf tugs Mew down until their mouths are almost touching. “Let him watch perhaps.”

Mew closes the distance between their lips. Sucking on Gulf's top lip before swirling their tongues together. Gulf's hands working at his pants, trying to get them off but gets interrupted when Mew rocks forward. Rolling their hips. It’s a little painful rubbing jeans together but he quickly growing bulge in both of their jeans doesn’t mind it that much. Contact is contact.

Gulf hands grip his hips hard enough to stop them from moving. “Baby, stay still so I can get your pants off.”

Mew ignores him because sometimes he’s a tease and continues to roll his hips. Mew hisses at the friction and Gulf pulling his lip with his teeth. Then the hands on him tighten, it’s deliciously painful and Mew wants the marks that they’ll leave.

Gulf has never been that gentle, hands always just a bit too rough. The first time they had sex there wasn’t enough lube for Gulf rough fingers but Mew found that he didn’t mind the sting of pain. The almost ripping feeling inside him. Maybe he had a tiny size kink that the pain played on too.

Much like now as Gulf flips them, shoving Mew pants down his legs, the jean material pulling down his skin and throwing them to the ground. Rough hands press all over him, lips suffocating rough, Mews hands pulling at Gulf hair until a finger sneaks into his hole. He hisses at the dry feeling but it quickly turns into a moan as Gulf kisses down his neck. The kisses almost feel like an apology.

Mew reaches between the cushions and pulls out a bottle of lube. He chucks it at Gulf chest with a whiney grumble. “Hurry up.”

Gulf does. The next thing Mew knows is Gulf three fingers deep and he’s arching off the couch with a loud keening noise. Gulf learned very quickly where his prostate was and knows how to use it. Mew hates how gulf can play him so easily, he turns into a needy mess as Gulf brushes the spot every so often when he feels like he needs to. Gulf knows how much control he has over Mew and on more than one occasion has made him beg to cum as he teased said pleasure button.

It’s horrible and wonderful and Mew sometime thinks he might have a slight addiction to it.

Gulf continues stretching and working him until he’s panting, sweating and aching. Mew dick leaking against his stomach feeling neglected but happy.

Gulf slips his fingers out, rolling Mew balls in his palms for fun -Mew knees him in the side as his hips stretch for more- before he slathers his cock up in lube.

“We should make a video.” Gulf says casually as he lines himself up with Mew hole.

“The fuck?” the words come out like a gasp as the tip slips inside him.

“A video,” Gulf says again and Mew just pulls him in for a kiss, Gulf dick slides all the way inside him.

“No,” Mew says biting Gulf lips in punishment for such an idea.

Gulf pouts, pulling Mews knee over his shoulder kissing it before he thrust forward. The first one is always rough, a little too fast, his body never quite having time to adjust to the size but Mew likes it that way. Mew lets out a groan that Gulf matches.

“How about just a picture. Let me show you off.” Gulf runs his hands over Mew's torso, snapping his hips as he admires the view. It wakes Mew a second for the words to process, he almost wants to ignore them as Gulf starts a steady pace

Mew groans at a deep thrust, covering his face. “Can we not.”

Gulf pulls Mew arms off his face, nibbling at his lips. Mew licks up at his mouth in retaliation. Arching his body closer, trying to take more in. Hoping the Gulf would drop the video idea and just fuck him instead.

“You’re so beautiful,” Gulf says capturing the wayward tongue, pulling it into his mouth with a tight suck. “Especially when you're covered in paint.”

“I’m an artist,” Mew whines thrust up to try and match Gulf. “It’s not pretty, it’s dirty.”

“It’s beautiful.” Gulf hums kissing down his throat. He bites at Mew Adam’s Apple before licking it. Mew's head snaps back into the pillow.

He jumps when he feels something cold touch his chest. He immediately bates at it but Gulf stops moving, shoves deep inside him, hands on his hip with almost bone-breaking force, and smears paint over his chest.

“Gulf wha- what the hell?” Mew goes to bat at the hand again but Gulf stops him with a stare.

“Please.” It’s such a soft beg for the position and the pressure. Mew gulps dropping his hands by his head. Fuck it, he can’t say no to Gulf pouts. Gulf rolls his hips, hitting that spot inside him and Mew moans, closing his eyes.

“Hurry up.”

“Thank you, baby.” He brushes that spot again in thank you and Mew holds on to the tingles as he waits for Gulf to do what he wants so they can continue.

Gulf drops a kiss to his lips before reaching over to the paints spread out over the table. The ones Mew was using last night, that he was supposed to clean up. Normally Mew is great about cleaning up after his projects, he hates a messy room. Last night he’d lost track of time and was too tired and gulf convinced him to leave it. Maybe Gulf had planned this. Or maybe Gulf was just good at going with his surroundings.

Mew doesn’t look down at his chest but eyes stay focused on Gulf. The look of concentration and excitement across his face as those wet fingers run over Mew's chest.

“Fucking work of art,” Gulf mutters rocking his hips just enough to get Mews focus back.

Mew looks down at the mess on his chest, he can’t help but smile. It’s a mess of brown, red and blue. But Gulf painted a red heart over his heart and it was sweet and cute. Messy but cute. Or maybe it’s cute because Gulf looks so proud of himself about it.

Mew looks up to Gulf who is ecstatically taking pictures before throwing his phone to the side.

“No picture-“ Mew tries to say but Gulf already had.

“Trust me.” Gulf says before slamming their mouths together. “Ready?”

Mew doesn’t have a chance to answer as his legs are shoved to his chest, the paints smearing over them as Gulf slams in. It’s hard and fast and Mew can’t breathe in the best way. Gulf teeth and tongue are marking up his neck and hands barring down into the near of thighs and it’s painful, the burn and sting of each thrust. 

“Gulf, Gulf I’m gonna cum. Please.” He babbles between moans. Gulf just speeds up, if it’s possible. Mew feels it in his throat. The pressure. Gulf burring deeper and deeper, folding him in half. He might burst in half, scatter pieces of euphoria. His hands scrambling to pulling Gulf closer, clawing for balancing. He was fucking high and he could feel the tipping point to ecstasy and he was craving it.

Gulf hands wrap around his dick and it only takes a few storks and he’s cuming ropes along his stomach probably ruining whatever Gulf painted. Mew doesn’t care as he washed over in the glow of his orgasm.

Gulf gives him a few more thrusts before he’s moaning out a garbled version of Mew name a giant his neck.

Mew can feel the warmth coat his inside and grimaces, he really hates that feeling. But the orgasm glow allowed him to forget it for now as Gulf settles on his chest and Mew threads fingers through the sweat-damp hair.

“I’m glad you finally called me,” Gulf mutters dropping a kiss to Mew collarbones. Mew hazy thoughts swirled around till he remembered their conversation before.

“I’m glad you stayed after all the stuff I’ve spilled on you.”

Gulf pushes up and there’s paint smeared over his check and jaw where he was leaning against Mew's chest. The paint was all over Gulf's chest as well.

Mew looks down and the heart has been rubbed off and the colors shifted, the belly white stream really ruins the whole sweet vibe it gave off from before and Mew snickers.

Gulf stretches for his phone, dick still lodged inside Mew like it’s taken up residential and Mew doesn’t mind it quite enough to make him leave yet.

Gulf fiddles around with his phone before holding it up, Mew knows he’s taking pictures. Mew lets him. He’s still too happy from the glow to care. He’ll get Gulf to delete them later.

A few minutes later Gulf seems satisfied enough and flips the phone around to show Mew one of the pictures. Mew flushes at it.

It’s one from when the paint was first put on, the colors looked so different at that angle then they had Mew looked down at then. Handprint of his pec in blue, the red heart Gulf name over his abs in green. It was silly but adorable. Mew's face was flushed and annoyed in the picture but it worked. And Gulf smile told him that he loved it. Mew couldn’t say he was mad or even annoyed because the joy in Gulf eyes was worth it. Plus it didn’t show any of his part it just looked like he was shirtless and they had been making out.

Gulf slips past a few pictures before stopping on another to show him.

This one is the after, Mew's face isn’t in the picture but the messy swirls over color are, gone are the handprint and heart. gulf name is a mess of brown. A steak of white up his chest. His dick limp against this stomach. There’s no doubt about what happened in the picture. Especially with Gulf's dick still stuffed inside him prominently showing at the bottom of the picture.

“You can see how well you take me in this one,” Gulf says with pride, he zooms in to see Mew hole closer. “Still holding me tight.”

Mew instinctively tightens around Gulf soft dick, it twitches inside him.

“Mine.” Gulf growls dropping down for a kiss. Mew kisses back, twitching around the dick. Each time he does Gulf twitch’s back and it quickly brings his own dick back to life. It’s like their having a conversation with each other, something an akin to the Morse code. Saying fuck me.

“Oh, bee,” Gulf coos, hand grabbing Mews cock giving it a few jerky thrust. Mew body arch’s, thrusting into the palm and he can feel Gulf dick growing, hardening inside him. “Still hungry?”

“Fuck Gulf.” Mew groans.

“Did I not fill you up enough?”

Mew whines, locking his legs around Gulf hips.

“I don’t want to be able to sit tomorrow,” Mew says pulling Gulf mouth to his. It’s aggressive and bitey and from the way Gulf hips unconsciously thrust forward at Mews words, he knows Gulf will make sure he won’t.

Bonus:

Mew walks into their apartment, dropping his back with a thud, setting his pencils and brushes in their cup, and then freezes.

There’s a new picture on their side table. He blinks, steps closer, fuck he knows that picture. That picture should defiantly not be where anyone can see it. That picture should be secure on Gulfs phone or out of existence. But definitely not here. He slams the photo down in agitation.

“Gulf.” He calls then with a bit more agitation when there was no response, “Gulf.”

“What’s up?” Gulf shuffles out of the bedroom, towel around his waist, hair wet and dripping.

“What is this?” Mew points to the face-down photo. Gulf face lights up like Christmas tree.

“The new masterpiece for the living room.” He says excitedly. “I was going to make it really big and hand it on the wall but I figured you wouldn’t like that so I got that size instead.”

“Your right I would not have liked that.” Mew pinches the bridge of his nose. “We can’t keep this, especially not in the living room.”

“Why not?” Gulf whines at this, crossing his arms over his chest. A child, that’s what Gulf is.

“People can see it. Our friends will see it.”

“They know we fuck Mew.”

“I’m sure they do but that doesn’t mean they need to see it.” Mew throws his hands up in exasperation. “You can’t keep porn in the living room.”

“You look great -“

“Get rid of it,” Mew says with finality abs stomps past Gulf to get the shower.

When he finally exited the bathroom, Gulf is sitting on the bed holding out a cup of tea at him. The picture now on the nightstand on Gulfs side of the bed.

Mew stares at the picture, Gulf glances over at it too before back to Mew. Gulf expression is soft and pleading, begging him to let him keep it there. He nudges the cup forward as a peace offering.

“Fine” Mew sighs, flopping over the bed, he can’t say no to Gulf pout. HE really should work on that. “It can stay.”

Gulf cheers. It’s cute and small as he wiggles happily before reaching over to set the teacup on Mews nightstand.

Mew stares at the picture, it really is a good picture but like his dick is hanging out, Gulf dick is in him and the paint rubbed over his torso looks vaguely like an old painting from his art history class. He really should know the name of the style but he can’t be bothered right now. He gets why Gulf likes it so much though. He even put it as his home screen on his phone because Mew wouldn’t let him set it as his lock screen. Thankfully that was still a cute selfie they had taken on their second date together.

Mew wonders if he can repaint that picture for one of his projects. Minus the dicks, he’s sure it be a big hit at his next art exhibit.


End file.
